


Distance

by ficteer



Category: Ookiku Furikabutte | Big Windup!
Genre: Future Fic, M/M, Masturbation, skype shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-26
Updated: 2014-10-26
Packaged: 2018-02-22 15:34:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2512796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ficteer/pseuds/ficteer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It makes the heart grow fonder.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Distance

**Author's Note:**

> *shakes an angry fist at the bookshop au for dragging me into suyanai hell*

It took Abe about two minutes to download Skype on the brand new computer he’d gotten as part of his graduation present for university, though it felt like an age of the Earth since he spent all one hundred twenty seconds staring at the progress bar move. As soon as it was installed, he clicked it open, and created a new account. The program opened with a whooshing noise that was  _completely_  unnecessary, and then Abe stared at the blank window with a bit of helplessness. 

It was temping to go see if Hanai was busy doing whatever it was that English majors did for homework, if only because it wasn’t as big of a deal to look incompetent to a roommate who had already barred him from ever,  _ever_  touching anything in the kitchen again, but before he could get up to peek and check, there was a soft chirping sound on his desk that made the decision for him. Reaching out to grab his phone, Abe flipped it open and read the text.

[From: Mihashi Ren]  
[To: Abe Takaya]  
[Subj: did you get it yet??]  
[tell me your username so i can add you when  
you’re finished!!]

Abe could weep. He texted the username over, then closed his phone and stared at his screen while he waited for something to happen. It came with a little sound, and a notification that Mihashi Ren had sent him a contact request. He clicked on the confirm button, and with another notification sound, the little bubble next to Mihashi’s name filled in green. Abe double clicked on it, then saw the button he needed next: video call. He pressed the button, and then watched as a black window opened and a ringing sound started. Another eternity of the Earth, and then a popping noise, and suddenly his screen was filled with blond hair and a familiar face.

“Ah, you figured it out!” Mihashi exclaimed, eyes bright and not meeting Abe’s, because he was looking at Abe’s face on the screen instead of into the camera. He looked good, Abe thought to himself, feeling his lips curl up into a smile.

“How’s practice going?” he asked, watching as Mihashi’s gaze dodged around the computer as he clicked things and moved them around. Maybe getting other windows out of the way, Abe figured, watching as Mihashi got an excited look on his face that he only ever really got with baseball.

“It’s fun! There are lots of pitchers here, and everyone’s really good, but I’m working hard!” Mihashi then squawked, shrinking into a sheepish expression that had Abe rolling his eyes. “I-I mean, I’m not working too hard, I promise. I only pitch how much they tell me to, even though… it’s not as much…” Mihashi then leaned forward, putting his head in his hands as he propped them on his desk with his elbows, squishing his cheeks around his smile. “What about Abe-kun?”

Abe shrugged, looking over at the mountain of science textbooks required for his first year biology major. “It’s going to be tough, but it’s not so bad just yet. I’ve heard it gets really rough after the first month or so, but I’ll handle it.” He looked back to Mihashi, who had a dreamy smile on his face that made Abe’s gut do things he didn’t like it to do. “I like them, though. My classes, I mean.”

Mihashi’s smile got even wider, a happy sound coming out of his mouth. “I’m glad! Even though… even though I wish I was there, I’m glad.” His face fell a little, and Abe’s fingers gripped into loose fists as he watched it happen.

“Mihashi, you did the right thing,” he said, voice low and serious. “You got a full ride to go there, and the baseball team is one of the top in the country. You’re going to do really well there.” There, eight hours away by train, emotions filtered by a computer camera as he sat frowning with lips Abe couldn’t kiss into a smile. Not that he would if he was there, he reminded himself bleakly, thinking of every opportunity in the three years of high school he had to tell Mihashi how he felt and every time he hadn’t pushed it. He didn’t need to pressure Mihashi, not when they still had time to enjoy their relationship as it was; and then, when Mihashi told Abe about the baseball scholarship, all of the time was replaced by all of the distance, all of Abe’s hopes for Mihashi to go and make something of himself, all of their joint pride for three years of hard work that Abe wouldn’t jeopardize for the sake of romance. No matter how badly he wanted it.

“I know,” is Mihashi’s soft response, his shoulders hunched forward a little as his hands disappear into his lap. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t miss you.” Abe felt his brow furrow and clenched his jaw tightly to keep the tears in his eyes where they belonged. It worked, because Mihashi shook his head, then tilted it with a smile as he started talking about his practice schedule, leaving Abe enough time to swallow the weight in his throat before he had to talk again.

\----------

It wasn’t a shock when he came home early after class about a month later to Hanai and Suyama making out on the couch, but their reaction of falling onto the floor in an awkward mess made it quite clear  _they_  didn’t know that  _he_  knew. 

“Did you honestly think you were hiding anything?” Abe asked flatly as Hanai pulled himself into a crouch using the arm of the sofa, face as red as Suyama’s sweater where it was tossed onto the coffee table without care. It was cute, reminding him of Mihashi how Hanai’s mouth opened but only garbled bits of Japanese came out, Suyama choosing just to lie limp on the floor with his face in his hands and agonized groans worming through his fingers. Abe turned into the kitchen to grab a snack, bringing it into the living room and crashing on the end of the couch, putting his feet up on the table as he cracked open his beer and flipped on the television like Suyama and Hanai weren’t flame-faced and stiff where they’d crawled into their seats (not touching at all) next to him. Abe clicked through until he found the channel he was looking for, and almost immediately, the two next to him relaxed a bit.

“Oh, it’s on television,” Hanai said, and Abe nodded as he took a bite of cold pizza. It was a baseball game, but not just any baseball game; it was the first game of the season, and Mihashi’s school was getting ready for defense. Abe had gotten the excited text a week ago, telling him that he might get switched in during the second half, and would Abe-kun be able to watch even though he was super busy with classes. He was indeed super busy, and usually spent his afternoons either in labs or in a study room in the library, but he wasn’t going to miss this for the world. Mihashi’s college baseball debut came before the few hours of sleep he’d miss watching it.

Sure enough, Mihashi was switched in at the sixth inning, and Abe watched every movement with hungry eyes. His pitching had gotten stellar by their third year of high school, with the kind of speed Mihashi had fantasized of as a first year matching the kind of control he’d worked so hard to recover after tampering with his movement to get it. It had been a dream catching for him that last season, their movements powerful and locking out all but the last round of Koshien, letting them finish as the second school in the country. A step away from their first year goals, but close enough to get them all the recognition of gods. 

He was in top form today, Abe noted proudly, wondering selfishly for a moment if it was because he told Mihashi he would definitely watch, if that extra power Mihashi had picked up was because of the high-intensity coaching he was getting or if it was because he knew his Koshien catcher was watching. Abe let himself taste the feeling for just a moment, indulging in his needs until Mihashi shut the last four innings of the game down, bringing his team to their first win, 3-2. Mihashi looked happy, Abe felt happy, and Suyama and Hanai had forgotten their amorous pre-game activity and had gotten involved in the game with the same level of interest Abe had brought. Well, maybe they hadn’t  _completely_  forgotten about it, as Hanai stood and reached over the coffee table in front of them to get his phone, and Abe was first in row to see Suyama’s eyes take in a very slow and thorough stare at Hanai’s posterior. Abe loudly excused himself to go to his homework.

When he got into his room and shut his door, he plopped down at his desk and opened his laptop. It would be a couple of hours before Mihashi would get online, be knowing how he tended to lose track of time when he was studying, Abe double-clicked on the blue and white logo and opened Skype. Mihashi would call him if he could, and until then, Abe figured he’d get his work done to make up for the time lost in the game. It was a while before he had to turn on his lamp, the only marker of the passing of time as the sun dipped beneath the line of buildings outside his window and made it too dark to read.

It was probably hours later when there was the sound of the phone call coming in, and Abe looked to his laptop to see that Mihashi was calling him. He pressed the accept button immediately, heart jumping when he saw the excitement still making Mihashi glow even through the low-quality camera. 

“Abe-kun, did you see?” Mihashi asked, voice high and still filled with post-game adrenaline. Abe couldn’t help the grin that pulled his lips. 

“Yeah. You were great, Mihashi.” Abe straightened, rolling his head around to work out the kinks as he abandoned his homework for the moment. “That third-hole batter really had you working hard for it, though.”

“Mmm, we talked about walking him, but I’m glad we didn’t,” Mihashi answered, leaning in a bit closer to the computer as he put his weight on his desk. Abe was suddenly able to pick up the fact that Mihashi’s hair was slightly damp, probably from a shower after getting back to his apartment, and his skin was flushed not so much from the adrenaline but from the heat of a bath. Abe swallowed thickly, feeling his hands tighten on the arms of his desk chair.

“And the clean up, too. That was a tough one, wasn’t it?” Abe asked, feeling his voice dip even more than hearing it, and hoping that it wasn’t picking up through the microphone, hoping that it wasn’t high-quality enough for Mihashi to hear the soft groan when the blond bit his lip in frustration.

“He got a pretty good hit in the seventh inning,” Mihashi said, lips curling around the words in the kind of way that Abe often pictured wrapped around his cock, and Abe shifted uncomfortably in his seat, unable to look away from Mihashi’s mouth and so very, very glad that it wouldn’t look weird for him not to make eye contact like this. “We went with a curve ball first, low on the outside, but even though it wasn’t a good spot for him, he went for it anyway.”

“Mmhmm,” Abe agreed, his right hand tightening on his desk hard, out of sight of the camera, because he was  _aching_  to touch himself, and there was a split second of weakness where his arm moved and his hand fell to his thigh before he stopped himself, because he was absolutely  _not_  going to masturbate to Mihashi like this, and he would be able to see his arm move even if he couldn’t see what Abe was doing, and it would be  _obvious_  what he was doing - ( _but this was Mihashi, he wouldn’t put it together, he wouldn’t notice_ ) - no, no,  _God_ he was achingly hard just thinking about it, thinking about touching himself with Mihashi sitting there, thinking about touching himself with Mihashi watching, maybe telling him how to do it, maybe touching  _himself_  too, letting Abe tell  _him_  how to touch…

And then, before he had agreed to let himself do it, he exhaled a soft breath of relief as his palm brushed over the hardness in his sweatpants, just enough for sensation. Mihashi was looking everywhere, eyes moving but mind seeing the game as he replayed every pitch to Abe, and that thought had his breath hitching in his throat as he pressed a little harder. Mihashi was still his pitcher, a little bit, going over the pitch call and looking maybe not for approval, but for input, and Abe ached to give it.

“It was a good call to have him hit,” Abe said, barely able to keep a steady breath as he slipped his hand into his sweatpants slowly enough so that it wouldn’t be obvious on the camera what he was doing. He looked away from Mihashi to the little window of himself, hyper-focused on his arm and its movements, until he was able to feel the slickness of the precum beneath his fingertips. He bit his tongue hard, felt his jaw quiver as he curled his fingers around and moved just his wrist, slowly, painfully almost, but enough for sensation.

Mihashi made a small chirping noise of pleasure that Abe agreed with him, and the sound went straight to his cock. The breath through his nose was a little too sharp, so he parted his lips just enough for air, just enough to lick his dry lips, but not enough for the soft moan low in his lungs to come any further than the knot in his throat at the way Mihashi kept talking, completely oblivious and yet so  _fuckable_ , with his hair that probably smelled like that tea tree oil his mother got him, and maybe he still used that cinnamon toothpaste Abe could smell on his breath when he leaned in to keep their strategy secret from the other team, his throat pale and long as he tossed his hair to let drops from the shower still clinging to the strands go flying about, begging for Abe’s teeth. Abe barely bit back the groan, squeezing himself hard, moving only a centimeter each stroke but so close just from  _thinking_  about going down on Mihashi in the shower, just dropping to his knees and taking him in until his nose tickled those blond curls he could draw from memory with how much he’d stared in high school, swallowing every drip when Mihashi clenched his pitching hand in Abe’s hair and rode him hard. Abe’s toes curled in his slippers, spine clenched tight as he came harder than he had in a long time, left hand gripping the edge of his desk as he leaned forward just a bit, curling in ever so slightly as his hips jolted ever so much, lungs burning as he held his breath tight in his chest to keep from making noise as he rode each wave of his orgasm hard and deep while still trying to look presentable on camera.

He blinked into himself as soon as he could manage, just in time to see Mihashi try his best to smother a yawn, his lips still curled in a smile but the energy dying. He probably hadn’t passed out from the game yet, Abe thought, pulling his hand out of his pants and holding the cum he managed to catch in his palm carefully. He eyed the box of tissues next to his bed, a step away and far too suspicious. “You look tired, Mihashi,” he said, swallowing nervously when he heard how croaky his voice had gotten. “You should go get some sleep before your practice tomorrow.”

“But I want to talk to you,” Mihashi responded pitifully, eyes focusing on the computer screen and not the game replay in his head probably for the first time in the conversation. “You have a lot of tests coming up soon, so you’ll be busy and I won’t get to call you.”

“I’ll call you when I can, Mihashi, but you really need to get some rest. You know you’re tired, and I can see you yawning,” Abe responded, earning a squeak and a blush. It was endearing, just what Abe needed, and he felt the smile tugging onto his lips as the warmth moved from his crotch to his chest. “Go get some rest. You did a great job today, so keep up your hard work.”

“Okay,” Mihashi said, flushing with the compliment and unable to keep a sour expression. “Goodnight, Abe-kun.”

“Night, Mihashi,” Abe bid, and the call ended with a click.

\----------

As Mihashi had predicted, the next month resulted in only two Skype calls and definitely zero masturbation, as Abe was finding himself too tired to talk for longer than ten minutes at a time due to tests and midterms, let alone do anything naughty in the meantime. He did, however, manage to watch all but one of Mihashi’s games, spending the entire physics lab for the one he missed in a sour mood that had his lab partner even more on edge than usual.

The third month passed with Mihashi’s schedule amping up, and Abe watched as Mihashi would often cradle his head in his arms as they spoke, drifting off into sleep as Abe watched, heart aching and fingers tingling with the need to brush those blond bangs out of his pitcher’s face. He watched for as long as he could let himself, memorizing every detail as it changed, watching Mihashi’s shoulders get even stronger, watched his face beam with more and more pride as his pitching got even stronger than before. When he was lucky, he would get to see Mihashi wake up, groggy and listening when Abe told him to go to bed, because Mihashi would strip off his shirt and rub his eyes before disconnecting the call with one last ‘ _good night_ ’, leaving Abe with the kind of eye-candy that kept him satisfied imagining how long it would take him to learn each press of his soft muscles with his tongue until their next call.

The fourth month brought stress for the both of them, with the game season getting more intense as they pushed into the summer, and finals for Abe that threatened him and his classmates into an early grave. Hanai and Suyama (who had, blissfully, all but moved in, bringing his cooking skills with him) had found their own way to get rid of the stress, but the second time Abe walked in to the apartment after a late night in the library and heard the soft sounds of smacking flesh and soft purrs of pleasure through the door, he’d decided it was enough. He needed a dose of Mihashi to get him through the next two weeks, and then he would be free.

Abe shut his door behind him as quietly as possible, not wanting to disturb Hanai in his…  _activities_ … as he was always significantly more pleasant to deal with after Suyama had his way with him, and significantly more irritable and annoyingly embarrassed when interrupted. He’d yet to get it through his head that Abe didn’t  _care_  that two of his old teammates were fucking, that if he’d had it his way he’d be in the same boat.

Opening Skype, Abe crossed his fingers that there would be a little green circle next to Mihashi’s name, and when he saw it, he felt the same kind of weepy happiness that he’d gotten when he’d confirmed that Tajima Yuuichirou was indeed  _that_  Tajima from the Arakawa Sea Breams. He clicked on the button as quickly as he could, praying now that Mihashi would answer, that he  _could_  answer, because even if it was just to look at him or get told that he couldn’t chat right now, Abe needed to see those eyes and that smile for a good recharge before academic warfare. 

It took longer than usual, but after a few breathless seconds, there was a click, and then Mihashi came into view. He was shirtless, face a bit flushed but definitely happy to see Abe, and those lips curled into the kind of smile that had Abe’s heart on a train to meet it. “A-Abe-kun,” Mihashi said, voice oddly breathless, and Abe blinked slowly.

“Did I interrupt a workout?” he asked, watching with fascination as Mihashi’s face turned an even darker shade of red, and he diverted his eyes from the computer screen.

“Work… um… yeah, I was… working out,” Mihashi responded, hesitantly, and Abe stared blankly at Mihashi wiggling in his seat, and he was not the most socially observant person, but he knew Mihashi, he knew when Mihashi was lying, and he wasn’t so stupid as to not realize what was going on.

“You were masturbating,” Abe corrected, and Mihashi squeaked scandalously, face now that same kind of red that Mihashi-san’s tea pot was that one time she’d walked in on Abe about to tell Mihashi how much he wanted to kiss him, and suddenly Abe felt way too hot in his clothes, his mouth too dry and his hands too empty. “Should I… uh…”

“N-No!” Mihashi responded immediately, straightening from where he’d been hunched over in his embarrassment. “I don’t get to talk to you lately so… I’m okay… Don’t….”

Abe stared at his computer screen, watched every quiver of Mihashi’s body as he cut his eyes back to the screen and then away, blushing harder each time, and he wondered if he could really make out redness around that one nipple, if Mihashi had been pinching it while touching himself, and now he was thinking about it, could see Mihashi’s mussed sheets over his shoulder, and he could see it in his mind: Mihashi, face flushed, body writing as he arched into his hand and touched himself hard, scratching lines up his legs, biting his lip so he didn’t bother his roommate, and now Abe was hard, hand coming up to cover his mouth and feeling the heat of his blush against his palm.

“What were you…” Abe started, stopping when he caught himself, horrified that he was about to ask, but Mihashi’s gaze was quick to find his, eyes dilated and aroused. Abe swallowed hard.

“What… was I…?” Mihashi repeated, voice breathy into the mic, and Abe felt the whimper crawl up his throat, felt it claw its way to the back of his mouth, almost came out. God, did he… was he…?! “Does Abe-kun… want to know?” 

The sound came past his lips, soft and barely audible, only reaching his mind through the taste of desperation thick on his tongue. His fingers tightened, scratching at the desk as his cock throbbed between his legs as Mihashi licked his lips, not intentionally teasing (probably) but definitely getting it done. He could barely hear Hanai and Suyama anymore over the blood rushing in his ears, and he wanted that same relief for himself, suddenly was overcome with the filthy need. Abe bit his lower lip, dragged it across, and with a soft groan, he broke. “Yes… Tell me.”

He saw the hitch in Mihashi’s breath as his chest expanded sharply, his blush coursing his pale skin down his throat, as he swallowed and then opened his mouth. “I was… touching myself… thinking about… Abe-kun,” Mihashi said, voice little more than a whisper into the computer. Abe swore under his breath, dragging his short nails over the top of his desk towards the edge. “I was thinking… about Abe-kun… that one time you… you touched yourself on the camera.”

“Oh, shit,” Abe said, hands clutching his desk like a lifeline, torn between flaring embarrassment that  _Mihashi had known_ and the kind of arousal that made him feel dizzy. “Mihashi…I…”

“I was thinking about… Abe-kun doing it again,” Mihashi continued, hands disappearing from view and causing another breath to flee Abe’s lungs. “And I wanted… to do it with you, wanted Abe-kun to… to do what I told him to do, and… have you tell me what to do. Together.”

“Tell me what you want me to do,” Abe growled, voice guttural and low in his throat. “And… God, Mihashi, can… can you pinch your nipple again…?” Mihashi flushed, probably embarrassed that Abe had noticed, but he nodded, reaching up a quivering hand to his chest. He ran his finger over his nipple, closing his eyes and exhaling softly before lightly pinching between his pointer finger and thumb. Abe stared, stomach tying into a knot, mouth hanging open and breath rushing out as Mihashi breathed his name. “Mihashi… first name…”

“Takaya,” Mihashi obliged, his other hand raising to take care of the other nipple, and Abe lost his breath in the motion Mihashi made of rolling into his own touch, eyes closed and flush spreading onto his chest. His eyes cracked open, dark gold with the heat in his blood, lips parting as he licked them slowly. “Take off your clothes, Takaya… and… you, too…”

Abe made a desperate noise, reaching to the back of his shirt and pulling it over his head. His hips came forward, and he unbutton his jeans as quickly as he could with unsteady fingers, the zipper coming lightning fast down as he wiggled out of his boxers and pants in a single motion. He was already soaking wet, almost cross-eyed from how much it hurt. “Ren… Ren, can I…”

“Not yet,” Mihashi breathed, dragging his hands down his stomach. “I want to see it first.” Abe felt his face grow even hotter, eyes clenching shut as a painful bead of precum came at Mihashi’s order, but he did as he was told and stood, watching in the little box on the side of the screen as his hard cock came into view. Mihashi’s eyes got even darker, chest rising and falling hard as he stared at the screen with a deep hunger. “T… Touch it,” he whimpered, and Abe did, stroking from head to base with a finger before pressing his palm and wrapping his fingers in a tight squeeze. 

“Ren,” Abe hissed, gripping the back of his chair tightly in his left hand, staring at the screen only to see Mihashi slowly lift a hand to his mouth, two fingers slipping inside as his tongue lapped the pads and curled around. Abe shuddered, unable to blink as he stared, moving his hand to the pace of Mihashi’s wrist fucking his mouth with his fingers, watching as Mihashi’s expression got almost  _slutty_  as he groaned around his - oh,  _fuck_ , Abe whimpered, his pitching hand, he was - !

Mihashi brought his fingers out of his mouth and spread the saliva on his chest, slowly dragging the wet line down past where Abe could see because of the desk. Then, “Sit down,” and Abe did, immediately, knowing that Mihashi wanted to see his face, and needed to give him exactly, one hundred percent, what he wanted. “Together… we’re gonna come together. Okay? Takaya?” 

Abe couldn’t speak, just jerked his head in a single nod, and he watched Mihashi’s face, saw the moment he finally touched his own cock as those blond eyebrows furrowed and his tongue came out onto his wet lips in a sharp exhale, his heart pounding hard against his ribcage as he watched each undulation of Mihashi’s body into his hand, wished he could see Mihashi’s hips moving, wished that cock was inside of him, hard and hot and this achingly slow pace he knew would drive him crazy, knew that Mihashi would drive him crazy, “I wish I could… touch you,” he whispered, and Mihashi nodded, eyes barely managing to stay open and watch the computer screen as his flush got deeper and his movements faster. “Ren… Ren, I want… Ren…”

“Close, T… Takaya,” Mihashi said, arm moving faster, and it was so strong-looking, no longer that same noodle boy that he’d met, crying on the baseball mound, but a man, a strong man that could pin him to a bed and fuck him until he cried, and God he just wanted to come, he was so close it hurt, and he heard himself begging Mihashi but couldn’t control his mouth to stop, and then Mihashi’s head fell back, mouth parting on a high and broken gasp of his name, and Abe followed, hard into the bottom of the desk, too far gone to catch anything but the way Mihashi kept saying his name, his arm still moving as he fucked his hand through his orgasm, and so he did the same, until he tasted blood and couldn’t move anymore.

He opened his eyes after he slowly started piecing himself back together, realizing only after a few moments that his face was streaked with tears, jaw wet with drool from where he’d been trying to breathe, and he wiped his mouth with the back of his arm to see that he’d bitten his lip a little too hard, and blood and spit streaked on his forearm. Chest heaving, he looked at the computer screen, watching as Mihashi’s body moved with each haggard breath, and then he saw the cum streaked over Mihashi’s chest, and he couldn’t smother the groan even if he’d wanted to. 

“Ta… kaya…” Mihashi breathed, closing his mouth and humming a pleased noise. Abe stared, watched as Mihashi said it again, flushing a bit more each time, and it slowly dawned on him that perhaps Mihashi was testing how the word sounded in his ears, how his mouth formed the syllables, and suddenly more than ever, Abe felt the distance between them as his hands felt empty and his lips cold and alone on his face. 

“Ren… After exams…”

“Yes,” Mihashi said right away, blinking his eyes open and looking at the screen with a smile so content, it broke Abe’s heart with how full it became. “I want to see you, too. Come visit me?” 

Abe nodded, and then he got one of those ten star Mihashi smiles, all happiness and shared warmth of a summer day, the kind filled with a good game of baseball and the sounds of Koshien, the kind of day meant for falling in love. 

\----------

Hanai pressed his arm harder over his eyes, pretty sure that his face was about to set their bed on fire. “Do you think he has any idea how loud they’re being?” he asked Suyama, who was on his back next to him, equally red and probably hoping he could smother himself with a pillow.

“Well, you’re not exactly quiet either, Azusa.” 

He almost got his wish.

 


End file.
